


This Distraction is Okay

by dexstarr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Hogwarts, Room of Requirement, Room of Requirement Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexstarr/pseuds/dexstarr
Summary: Narcissa's intention is to possess Lily.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Harry Potter_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for the Porn Battle Prompt Stack 2, prompt: Lily Evans/Narcissa Black, brief, clandestine, wild.

They’re as cliché as it gets. 

A poem come to life: the redhead’s fire melting the blonde’s icy exterior. 

Narcissa knows. She doesn’t care. 

Lily’s a distraction, a way to forget the turmoil at home. When her fingers are thrusting into Lily, soaking up her wet heat, she can forget Bella’s fury. When her mouth is on Lily’s, kissing so hard their lips hurt the next day, she can forget Druella’s bewilderment and heartache. When her body is pressed against Lily’s, trapping her on the bed, she can forget Cygnus’ wand blotting out the stain of Andromeda’s betrayal. 

Thrown together by Professor Vector’s misguided — maybe not so misguided after all, considering how they’re fucking each other — attempts at bringing unity to the eternal Slytherin versus Gryffindor battle, they’ve been everything. Enemies. Rivals. Frenemies. Narcissa won’t acknowledge Lily outside of this room, but that’s okay, because Lily wouldn’t hear the end of it either for talking to _another_ Slytherin. 

They aren’t meant to be, and that’s okay. This doesn’t need to last. It’s just for the year, until Narcissa’s buried her pain at losing a sister deep enough to not need a distraction anymore. 

Narcissa usually spends Charms debating what she wants to do to Lily the next time they’re alone. Her favored activity is mapping Lily’s freckles, drawing out the constellations of her family. On Lily’s back, to the right of her spine, there’s a complete Andromeda constellation, as if her sister is telling her this is okay, to enjoy herself before she starts the rest of her life. 

There’s no chance of Narcissa following in her sister’s footsteps. Unlike Andromeda, she wants this world, believes in purity and Lucius, and the life he’ll create for both of them, building on her name and his. They’re royalty in the wizarding world, and he’ll treat her like a queen. 

But that doesn’t stop her from meeting Lily every week. When Narcissa’s with Lily, she’s wild and carefree, embodying both of her sisters, shucking her shell of aloofness and ice. 

Lily gives back as good as she gets. Sometimes they fight, like two Maenads, clawing and biting each other before they surrender. 

Today is one of those days. Narcissa’s on her the moment Lily steps into the Room of Requirement. As she smashes her mouth over Lily’s, tasting mint toothpaste, the memory of that morning fades. As she savagely nips her way down Lily’s neck, leaving red dots along pale skin, she forgets her mother’s reprimands, etched in elegant calligraphy and listing her sins. (There are eyes on her everywhere, she cannot make a single misstep.) As her hands slide under Lily’s sweater, nails scratching along her sides, she ignores that the betrothal talk has already started. 

This … whatever _this_ is — it’s her only fling. Her first and last bit of wildness, channeling Bella and Andromeda for the last time. 

The wilder she gets, the easier it is to let out the Narcissa she keeps hidden from everyone, the shred of self she’ll hide forever. 

Lily and her zest for life pulls it out. Another cliché phrase; Narcissa read it in a book once and immediately thought of her. She’s envious of how free Lily is with her emotions, how one can always tell what Lily’s thinking. But one can’t be too envious of a Mudblood, so she takes that envy out today. 

She’s pleased when Lily pushes back, rolling them over. Lily grinds down on her hips, skirt rucking up, revealing the lacy burgundy knickers Narcissa sent by owl last week. “Get a letter from your mum?” Lily asks; she knows Narcissa’s tells. 

Flicking her wand, Narcissa neatly splits Lily’s Gryffindor sweater in half. Hands grabbing fistfuls of the white button-up underneath, she yanks Lily’s mouth down to hers, ripping the shirt open in the process. A flying button nearly hits her in the face.

“You’re a menace, Black,” Lily spits. 

The heat in her tone is that of arousal, not anger. Narcissa knows it gets to Lily, that she’s the only one who sees Narcissa Perfection Is My Middle Name Black like this, loose and wild like a mad witch. They haven’t talked about it, but she’s Narcissa Fucking Black, and so she _knows._

“I know.” Her answer is another fierce kiss, but this one turns gentle as her hands slide under Lily’s bra, deftly undoing the catch in the back. She divests Lily of sweater, shirt, and bra, pulling everything off in one smooth movement. “But you like it. That’s why you’re here: to play with danger.” 

Lily’s answer to _that_ is a knee pressed to the apex of Narcissa’s legs as she straightens back up, slipping through Narcissa’s hands. Narcissa presses herself against that knee shamelessly, taking a moment of pleasure for herself. She doesn’t care so much if she comes — her intention is to possess Lily. To quiet her mind by layering bad memories with good ones. 

Remembering why she’s here, Narcissa cups Lily’s breasts with both hands, thumbs rubbing over her pretty little nipples. They’re a lovely shade of light pink, and the secret poetic part of Narcissa has tried to find better words than “light pink” and failed. Lily sighs and throws her head back, red hair falling down her back like a startled snake. In the other girl’s moment of weakness, Narcissa spins them over again.

This time, she holds Lily down with her entire body, one hand sandwiched between them. She surges against her with every thrust, putting the weight of her body behind her fingers. With the knowledge she’s gained over so many — _too many_ — illicit encounters, Narcissa curls two fingers every time, thumb expertly stroking Lily’s clit. 

“Fuck me, Black,” Lily sighs, voice already taking on the breathy sound that signals she’s close. “So uppity, and you’re fucking a _Mudblood.”_

That’s okay, because sure, Lily’s a Mudblood, but she’s the brightest witch of the year, and she’s so fucking gorgeous, and keeps a secret like a Black. 

So it’s okay when Narcissa twists her fingers, bumping the spot Lily likes so much. It’s okay when she flutters her thumb over Lily’s clit, using just the right amount of pressure. It’s okay when she bites Lily’s neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark the brave Gryffindor will have to magically conceal.

It’s okay, because Lily’s screaming underneath her, and the sights and sounds of her orgasm help Narcissa forget. 

It’s a cliché, and that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/) where I'm trying to be more active in fandoms. Help out by sending me prompts!


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